The tale of Nuya (still in progress)


#1

This is yet another tale of my world Iiterian. Iiterian is very broad and my oldest and goldest work. I have a green folder (which has 12 pockets) filled with maps, names, stories etc. I don’t know where this particular story will go until I finish it. But I do have a general idea where I want to bring Iiterian. I will point out some names and places.
Earth Ocean, the earth ocean is one of the seven oceans in Iiterian. The earth ocean ranges from Below the Krom Belt until past the known borders. It got its name from the green and brown colors of the waters. from a distance the water itself looks like an island.
Klaw, the island that hosts the southern school of magic. It is often considered the center of the southern world.
Klawrom, the city on Klaw half of the school is in Klawrom the other half is out in the forests.
Sorm, A small island off the shores of Kel-Fay, this story is the first time I mention it and describe it. In the future this will probably be my main source for Sorm.
Ice Ocean, another of the seven oceans, this ocean is east of Trezk south of Krose, and north of the Krom belt. it got its name because the eastern half ices over in the winter months.

The Sunrise rose above another crest in the Earth Ocean. With each successive wave the sturdy ship broke a little more. Each gust of wind pulled on its sails, masts, ropes, and yardarms threatening to pull them down. The captain and the crew worked hard but it was a losing battle, a battle which they were determined to fight until the very end. The weather worker’s energy was all but spent. As they rose over a particularly big wave, the crew heard a nasty crack. The wind had finally won the battle and the mast crashed down. The mast landed on the port side and broke the already weakened hull. Pandemonium ensued, some sailors cut at rope trying to remove the fallen mast. Others pulled the sail over the hole in the hull in a last ditch attempt to save the ship. The captain knew better. He called for a nearby sailor. Together they went into the captain’s cabin. The sailor’s eyes shot wide as he realized what he was being asked to do.

On the back wall of the cabin, an intricate carved wooden chest was resting. It was this that the captain moved to. He undid the chains which secured it against the sliding and plunging of the ship. Then with the assistance of the sailor he lifted it and began to move it towards the door. All eyes turned to them as they brought the chest out of the cabin. Many of the sailors began to cry. They had failed, and they were paying for it with their life. The captain kept his emotions neutral as he put the key into the key hole. Then he heaved with all his might at the chest was in the sea. Symbolically the ship cracked in half as the chest hit the ocean. The heroic crew had cleared the mast and now rowed the broken ship as far away from the chest as possible, even though this tore the ship apart faster. Finally, after they could go no further, they let the ship slipped under.

Far away from the struggling ship, but in the same ocean a council was being held in the highest tower of Klawrom. Six of the seven chairs were already filled. The council members decided not to wait for the head of the council. He would come at his own time as usual. Long through the night they talked, the single candle in the middle of the round table was replaced many times before the daylight crept through the window. Still their

discussion did not cease, even when food was brought before them they continued to talk. Questions were asked, but no answers could be given, and then more questions were asked. And so the everlasting cycle continued. For days they talked and no conclusive decision could they reach. Many ships were sent out looking for The Sunrise or the chest it carried. None returned bearing good news. On the fifth day of meeting, the head of the council of Klawrom entered the

room and sat in his large chair. His eyes were like deep wells of knowledge and understanding. After his initial introduction the meeting continued as before. He did not speak until everyone else seemed to run out of words. He said in a low voice “the chest is following destiny, its destiny, not ours. The world will tell us our next move. We must follow the pattern. My mind tells me it will be in a remote place in an unexpected land but nothing is certain now. ” he paused for a few seconds between each sentence, letting his message sink in. It seemed to the other council members that each sentence could be looked at independently or with the others. After the head council member spoke he called the meetings to a close and walked to the balcony of the tower. He repeated his words, louder this time so all in the square could hear his echoing voice. The council had spoken.

The island of Sorm was a peaceful retreat. Every now and again a noble from a different island would come to Sorm to escape from their stressful lives. The taxes levied from these nobles kept the economy of Sorm running. For few Sorm Tribes could afford or maintain a ship to trade. Despite the many years of peace and plenty there was a castle on the hill in the middle of the island and it was well garrisoned. In their tongue the castles name was Qussepai. In the common tongue it was called Kusepa. The chiefs of the villages regularly supplied soldiers to man Qussepai. Because they knew that many times peace and plenty attracted the wrong kind of attention.

The northern beach of Sorm was hilly and in some parts was a sheer cliff. The southern beach was sandy and comfortable. Naturally the southern half of the island was more inhabited. However there were some villages in the north. Surviving by whatever luck brought their way. The village of Nessa was one of these northern villages. The northeast part of Nessa was shielded by large hills. These hills protected the village from the harsh ocean winds. To reach the ocean one had to follow a rocky path which snaked down the hills.

It was this rocky path that Nuya was traversing. Each step brought him closer to the sea, and to the solitary it promised. In a week’s time Nuya was going to be sent to a training camp to join the Qussepai garrison. His eyes watered at the thought of leaving Nessa and his family. He was tired of the old men’s advice, of the young boy’s hero worship, of the old woman’s tears, and of the constant stream of farewells he received. He couldn’t wait to sit on the rocks with his feet dangling in the water. It would be the thing he would miss most he thought. He reminded himself that he still had to get down the path, and with the wind blowing mist onto the land it would be slippery and dangerous. He took a deep breath and expunged the fear from his mind. He moved down each step without rush, safety in slow, he thought for the thousandth time in his life. Usually he would walk down the path, but now with it slippery like this he went on his backside. It took over twenty minutes to reach the bottom. As he moved to stand up, fate pulled a nasty trick on him, he tripped on a small stone and lost his balance. He fell a few feet down and landed in the water, narrowly missing a sharp rock. He pulled himself out of the water and got bearings of his surroundings. He would have to swim away from the shore and then swim alongside the land until he got to his normal spot. That way he avoided the sharp rocks by the shore line. He had hardly swum five feet before he noticed something stuck in the rocks. It looked like a log, a completely foreign thing on this side of the island. For a log to get here it would have to come from over the ice ocean. Nuya swam towards it; he planned to carve his family a gift. As he neared the log, he realized it wasn’t a log but a chest, a beautiful chest, with intricate carvings covering the whole thing. He pulled it out of the water and swam it the rest of the way to his normal spot.

Feel free to point out any grammar mistakes, I haven’t edited this part yet so its a big help if you catch mistakes and mention them. If you guys are interested in my Iiterian world I may post other stories or maps. Although I will keep a lot of it “secret” because it is probable I will publish many of the short stories in the future.


#2

i like it good job!!! :smile:


#3

it’s the “tabs” you have for those paragraphs … the Discourse formats those as code blocks…


#4

Alright thanks, I fixed it.